Of loving Ezra Fitz
by Lemon-add
Summary: Takes place at the beginning of S4. One-Shot on Aria dealing with her being seperated from Ezra, and how her dreams help her - one way or another. For it is not easy to leave such a man behind.


_Hi there!_

_Before letting you read, I have a couple of things to say:_

_First: nothing belongs to me blablabla. _

_Second: it's my first time writing on a TV-show, and also the first on PLL. _

_Third: This takes place by the end of S3, begining of S4. I may have made some mistakes and lacks of coherence, I do apologize right now for them. (And I am still at ep 4-2, oh pretty please don't spoil a poor writer who couldn't resist writing before watching it all)._

_Fourth: I am French. My English is fine, I know, but there sure will be mistakes. I do apologize for that too._

_Fifth: Please enjoy, and tell me about it then!_

_Love, Bergère_

**Of loving Ezra Fitz.**

It was a fair day. The sun was high in the sky, its light warm. A fair day indeed. A very fitting day for a wedding. And she'd not felt this happy for days, months, years maybe. For today, it was _her_ getting married. Her in this dress, she was the center of all the fussing around. Her staring stupidly at her reflection in the huge mirror her mother used to keep in her parents' room.

She felt pretty. The dress was long and brightly white, the veil was so pale compared to her crow-dark hair, and her face seemed to shine. Shine from happiness, probably, she reflected with a smile.

There was barely a minute left. Her father was already taking her by the arm, gently. Byron Montgomery seemed to shine too, but that must have been pride, a father's pride, no doubt. And all of a sudden she was walking down the aisle. Her mother, on the front bench, standing and trembling in a purple dress, her long hair combed in a complicated knot. And next to her, was Mrs. Fitzgerald, her stiff expression plastered on her made up face, entirely covered in a black dress that conjured grief a lot more than joy.

And next to her was younger son, in a light grey suit. And Hanna, and Emily, and Spenser, all of them looking utterly moved and holding trembling hands, like three sisters dressed in grey dresses buckled with silvery belts and holding flowers. And their mothers, fathers, friends. And more than that, she could see faces, and dresses, and glitters.

And finally, waiting for her right by the priest was Ezra, in a black and white attire, more elegant and handsome than ever, this stupid and seductive smile of his on the lips. That man, she sure loved. And this seemed absolutely, terribly perfect: her father gave her hand to Ezra, and here it was: happiness. The priest started a speech, but it seemed blurry, it lost sense and…

.

Aria woke up with a start. She was sweaty, her heart beating from her fear of losing this moment, and part of her mind was still lost somewhere between dream and reality. Her hand still clasped fiercely her pillow, where Ezra's hand was a moment ago, and upon seeing that she totally realized she'd been dreaming.

Life sucked entirely too much, she decided, falling back on her comfy bed with a huge and exaggerated sigh. That dream had been so perfect it was probably nightmarish, in the end. She missed Ezra. She missed Ezra with a passion, and she kept doing as if she really thought what she'd told him: that she _would like to see other people_.

She had a couple dates. They were alright, okay really. But no more, and she totally couldn't imagine starting a relationship with anyone. Her heart – obviously – was still in a relationship with one Ezra Fitz, and very much in love with him. Life definitely, completely, totally sucked. That was for sure.

With one more sigh – that one a lot more heartbroken than the previous – she let go of her bed and got up. To be fairly honest, she wasn't ready to marry anyone at her age: she was 17 for God's sake! But still, that dream seemed to have opened a couple unhealed wounds in her heart, and she got under the shower with no motivation whatsoever. Both breakfast and getting dressed were affected by the same lack of enthusiasm, and when she arrived at school after a boring ride, she was very much ready to go back to her pillows and blankets at soon as could be. Right now, if possible.

Spencer seemed about as empty as she did, and she decided to stick with her – avoiding Hanna's enthusiasm, Mona's odd presence, and Emily's flourishing love life which, to be frank, she just couldn't take today. She was probably lucky, there was no English class today, and she went through the corridors without much anxiety.

God how she missed that man! She knew she loved him, thank you, but it'd been long since she'd actually realized how much. The feeling of his hand in her hand had been so real, she still shivered at the memory, and she wished she could have that hand for real, just a moment. This was all dream and it wouldn't happen: she had A to thank for that. And life. And herself, probably, for nothing happens without a reason and, to be honest, she couldn't blame it _all_ on others. She had lost Ezra. And though breaking up with him – while she could tell this was an odd way to break up, for sure – was her decision and her doing, it hurt like hell. Maybe more than hell even, she'd not tried that.

She missed Ezra enough to write his name on her notebook, she realized, horrified, rubbing it hard enough to destroy the page. No way she had stepped back to help him, and now she'd spoil it all with stupid schoolgirl drawings.

She was a schoolgirl, of course: this was the problem. She tried to remember she'd decided to stop it because it was impossible to live, because this was heading right to the wall, right to self-destruction. Now she was far from him, it seemed all defects, all problems, were a lot less important. As much as she tried focusing on them, they would vanish and leave her mind focused on how much did miss him. Ah ! as she came back home, all she could say to reflect on the day was : life sucks.

.

She and Ezra were holding hands. It was sunny and joyful, all around. And nobody seemed to care, so they were right home, not in Philly, not anywhere far or secret. He was laughing and his bright teeth seemed to glitter in the sun, to draw all lights to his face. They were whispering endless things that made no sense, and they were happy. And Ezra took her closer even and was about to kiss her…

.

This was too much. She sure knew this was a dream, this time: twice in three days was a lot too much, and she was angry at herself. She could not keep dreaming of Ezra. She couldn't. This was pure torture: they weren't together, they probably would never be again, and her mind tortured her with memories when she slept, helpless. This was unfair.

She wasn't just unenthused: she was sulking at the world when she left school, and Spencer's endless chat about the red-coat-problem left her pretty cold. She couldn't focus on this, not when she knew she'd see him today. Her whole mind wandered and she barely shrugged when Hanna, as delicate as ever, asked if she slept at all at night to look this bad – and Emily's offended looks didn't even wake her up enough to make her smile. This day did suck too.

She'd sat straight, her eyes on her small table, when Ezra had entered the room. She could avoid seeing him for a whole hour, she knew: she'd done that already, trying to forget. But that was impossible. As much as he tried not to bother her – never asking a question, never asking for her attention – his voice still rang through her ears like daggers. Sometimes, it made her resolution waver and she would look at him, just one second. That was one second too much. Plus he did walk in the classroom, sometimes, and she could smell him, sense him. That much tension would kill her for sure.

Today, she was so focused on avoiding him, everything of him, that she didn't even attempt to take notes, to show a minimal attention. It was beyond her and, silent, her eyes glaring at the table as if to dig holes, she waited. Time was extremely long to go by, but eventually it did, and she escaped the room as fast as you could.

'You alright Aria?' asked Spencer, obviously worried.

'Not this much, to be honest. It'll pass.'

'You sure…?'

'I don't really want to hmm, talk, ok?'

'Right,' answered Spencer, and she didn't give her a second more to go on. She was already outside the school.

.

'I love you Aria, you know that?'

'I do,' she answered playfully.

'I love you very, very much…'

'And I you.'

'Not as much,' he joked.

'Oh, very very…'

.

Her hand was wet from sweat, her mouth had an odd sour feeling about it, and she felt sad. This time, she was starting to think this was a curse. She'd have believed it A's doing if it was even possible – but to be honest, she was pretty sure it was all her fault, and her own mind's doing.

This looked like routine already. Maybe – one could hope – she was going through a specific and difficult phase, and after that she'd feel better, safer and a lot freer. It was not impossible, she knew: that could be cathartic, in the end. For now, this looked a lot like a logorrhea of joyful nightmares, and she went forcefully through them. Well, actually she was dragged through them.

That day, she couldn't avoid him: he was giving papers back, she'd had an A but she couldn't care less right now, and when he'd called her name it had been necessary to answer. She could still hear this very same voice swearing a strong and deep affection, and him saying _Aria_ for real almost got her. But she resisted, and it's only once in her car, driving, that she had to stop for a couple of minutes because she was crying too hard.

She wasn't even sure why she cried exactly, but it did relieve her a bit. And at night she fell exhausted on her bed… but it took what seemed like hours for her to fall asleep.

.

A sofa, popcorn, and next to her Ezra: this was paradise. He was asleep on her shoulder, probably exhausted from the day, and she could watch the old black-and-white movie, eating with one hand, and slowly and tenderly patting his hair with the other. This was definitely paradise. And he started to move, obviously waking up, and…

.

This couldn't last. If it did, she'd go mad. Maybe her mind was trying a cure, but it sure didn't mend anything. She felt herself burning from her need of Ezra, see him, and talk to him. It was getting quite desperate, and she felt like a total wreck. So, at lunchtime she decide it was time to ask.

'Hum, you guys, I have a question,' she said, oddly using Spencer's usual manner of speech.

'Go on,' invited Emily.

'Has any of you ever had dreams that kept… coming back? All the time.'

'You mean, same dream always?' asked Spencer.

'Yeah, Spence. Or same subject?'

'Nope,' said Hanna with a shrug.

'Me neither,' added Emily, frowning.

'Maybe once or twice, but not this much, really,' finished Spencer.

'I'm so screwed!'

'Why?'

'I keep dreaming of Ezra, Em. Drives me nuts!'

'Oh that sucks!' exclaimed Hanna with a dejected expression.

'Tell me about it. I think I'm gonna die. Or kiss him right well… Feeling like I'm gonna screw it all, and I just can't.'

'You won't' tried to reassure Emily, 'you did want a chance at other relationships, didn't you?'

'I do. And I try, trust me. I just… love him…'

She'd been saved by the bell, because obviously none of the three of them was able to give her a real reassuring piece of information, by the look on their faces.

.

Tonight she'd not dreamt. It was a relief, even more than she'd have thought. This was a good day, and a week-end at that. So, decidedly, she went for a walk. She was to see Jake soon, she knew, but it felt both right and wrong. He was nice and all. But he was not Ezra. And he was a teacher – though this was entirely different, but still – and she couldn't help but feel this was compensating in a very obvious way. Well, she'd see to that when she'd see him.

As she walked by a park, the unmistakable silhouette of Ezra appeared in front of her. He'd been walking on the same path, but hidden by bushes, and suddenly she was but a couple feet from him. Panic and hope filled her in one moment, and she stopped dead on her tracks. He didn't, and he didn't stop walking until he was facing her. They stood there, looking one another: he said _hello_. All she could answer was:

'I miss you.'

Damned dreams. And damned mind. And she should be punished, too, for not thinking before talking. Ezra was looking at her with intensity, and she started shivering. This wasn't planned, this wasn't supposed to happen. But he mumbled some words she couldn't hear and looked around. And suddenly he was kissing her, and it felt so good. So good she knew she couldn't resist, wouldn't resist. This, at least, wasn't a dream… Or was it? she reflected in a frenzy, opening her eyes wide.

_So, what do you think? how did you like it? :)_


End file.
